Secret Life of the American Teacher

I know you’re wondering: what do teachers do all summer?

I’m wondering the same thing.

I’m home for the summer (Glen Allen, that is) because all of my teacher friends evacuated Eastern North Carolina almost the minute they tasted freedom. Thus, I’ve found myself in a weird, in-between spot. I’ve spent the past 10 months on my own, creating a new life that involves both a career and plenty of bills. Yet here I am, home again, with the summer off, much like any other summer in high school or college. While all of my friends work 9 to 5 jobs, I’m trying to figure out how to best spend this short but sweet time off.

I turned down the offer (request?) to teach a summer school program for rising 6th graders, mainly because I couldn’t imagine having to go back to work just days after I had that ever-so-sweet taste of freedom. In my head, I deserved a summer off after such a challenging first year, not to mention the fact that I had only about two weeks of summer last year because of Induction, Institute, and Round Zero (all fancy TFA terms for torture). All of my first-year teacher friends agreed.

So instead, I’ve found that most days, I split my time between three main activities: shopping, reading, and running.

The first is obviously very expensive and not necessarily the most responsible use of my time and money. However, I can’t help but take advantage of the plethora of stores at my fingertips. Because in less than 2 months’ time, there will be 45 minutes between me and the closest Target, and I will certainly suffer retail withdrawals.

The second activity, however stimulating it may be for the brain, makes me feel a bit lazy. I take that back. It makes me worried that I appear lazy to other people. I could spend hours and hours reading on the back porch, and sometimes I do. I also love to go the library, which I’ve done at least 4 times since I’ve been home. But I do feel a little self-conscious about my apparent lack of purpose. Is that man in the armchair wondering why I’m not at work? Is the lady banging away at her laptop silently cursing the youth of America and their sense of entitlement? (I feel ya sister—“Gimme a pencil.” “Miss H, where’s my cupcake?”) And then I remember three things: 1. I look all of 17 years old, so they probably assume I’m a teenager out of school for the summer. 2. I just worked my butt off for twelve straight months and I couldn’t care less what they think. 3. Why aren't the man in the armchair and the woman banging away at her laptop at work?

Anyways, I’ve managed to read four books in just a couple of weeks, and I’m currently working on two more. Have you heard of the Hunger Games trilogy? If not, you should read them. Amazing. I’m working on #2, Catching Fire. I’m also doing a little professional development by reading/taking notes on Teach Like a Champion. So at least I’m being a little productive!

I have a love/hate relationship with my third activity. My family loves to remind me that when I was little, I refused to play t-ball when I found out that I had to run the bases after I hit the ball. Any chance I had at being an all-star athlete like my sister was shot with that declaration. And even though I swam for many years and played volleyball in high school, I never had the determination and motivation it takes to really be an athlete. So my recent dedication to running may take some by surprise.

During the school year, running became an escape for me, a way to release all of the stress of school. I didn’t enjoy it, but it became somewhat of a necessary evil, a survival mechanism. Then, sometime in the cold, bleak winter months, when the lack of sunshine and abundance of pre-teen attitude muddled the clarity of my mind, I agreed to run a half-marathon with my dad. I don’t even recall much hesitation on my part, which is a bit troubling. Especially considering I’ve run the Ukrops Monument Avenue 10K twice, and swore I’d never run another race. Numerous people told me that races are so much fun, that the adrenaline and the atmosphere keep you going. I, however, hated every minute of both races, and was either too tired or too nauseous to feel any significant sense of accomplishment as I crossed the finish line.

Yet here I am, training to run 13.1 miles, or, to put it in perspective, to run over 2 hours without stopping. Ummm…what?

I wouldn’t say I am excited. Indifferent is more like it. I’m not dreading it, but I’m certainly not counting down the days like we did for the end of the school year. I will say, however, that I have never felt healthier in my life. The half marathon has given me a reason to stay in shape, and I actually do feel proud each day that I finish the distance suggested on my novice training schedule. Sundays are my long run days. I’m about halfway through training, and tonight I ran a whopping 6.3 miles—the farthest distance I’ve ever run in my life (granted, it’s only a tenth of a mile further than a 10K, but still). And in about 6 weeks, I’ll be in Providence, Rhode Island, running side by side with my dad, accomplishing what I bet no one would have ever imagined I would do the day I walked off the “field” in our front yard and refused to run the bases.

I have no idea what the average American teacher does during summer break. I do know that most of my friends are traveling and enjoying the days without lesson planning, breaking up fights, and waking up at 5:30 am. In the weeks to come, I'll surely continue my shopping, reading, and running. But I'll also be visiting friends in other states (even cross-country!) and making the most of this down time.

And if you feel jealous of the time off that teachers have, let me speak for my teacher friends and say, we deserve it. If there's one thing I've learned that I can't stand, it's when people imply (or flat-out say) that teachers have an easy job because of our two-month summer break. Ha. Get real.